The Metaphorical and Physical ROOT CANALS, or the Virile Prolegomona of a Witless Doubter's Paradigm:

In the near two weeks since I last blogged (a posted where I stated a need for myself to write more) you simply would not believe the things happening here. It's just... I don't know where to start, or if I should. I... I, I... AM MUNGO

You want to know about the Root Canal. On November 5th, while trying to procure a 6 month temporary tour witht the AK Nat'l Guard I ran into a hitch, a Dental Class 3 hitch to the tune of Molar #13 in need of a root canal. The Physical: The Filling dropped out and Rot took hold of the Root. Since that day, a full 10 weeks of scheduling and rescheduling with 3 different dentists around Anchorage have been endured with no results. A dozen obscure reasons, opaque in nature even, have come between me and the work needed to be done on my tooth. No work on my tooth, no work on base. On these Limbotic Planes of waiting and doubting, I have sought temporary employment from no less than 50 company's. The only one deciding to hire me being the door to door salesmen, the Junkmen. And that's precisely what I feel like. Precisely 6. I am a Junkman 6. I'm six of it. Sometimes you win and sometimes you get a bullet in the eye. The Metaphorical: The Divine dropped out of my life and Doubt took hold of the Meaning. Tomorrow is the last appointment I intend to keep with my dentist, this being the third dentist I've scheduled with. If, for some reason, this dentist will be out of the office, or if I find myself unconcious on the bathroom floor again, or if there's a fire next door, or a snow storm closes a street, or if dinosaurs reclaim the earth as their realm, or any of the other things that have come between me and my appointments... come between what I'm supposed to do and not supposed to do, cast anymore doubt on God's intentions on my life (is this a lesson in persistance? a lesson in patience? a lesson in trust? am I not supposted to do this job? am I meant for a seperate and higher, maybe lower, calling? IS THIS NOTHING AND THERE IS NOTHING? how long am I doomed to eat this shit? Human shit. The Consumption of Human Waste. I'm Only in it for the Taste.) If the next 18 hours cannot hold to plans, I'm going to resign from the National Guard, take what little money I have, take my ZZ, load my car with water supplies and saltine crackers and set out on----

And yesterday met two gentlemen. Jareth and Rance. One was 29 years old. One was 18 months old. One of them liked to pull the onion out of the breading on onion rings and dip it into Mountain Dew. One of them dipped tobacco.

And the list of things keeping me paralized goes on and on until you can't read it anymore. Star Wars opening scene: fading story is scrolling into the infinite. Only there is no cut away to planetary space battles in my world. There is no "..., dot dot dot, ..." to complete the summary of what has transpired hitherto. Just the fading yellow text of trials and dribbles of warm gravel down my chin. No bib lasts that long.

My Christmas Tree lies felled and disspelled on my front porch, cemented feet for the river drowing still lashed to it's base, and tonight, after all the residents of the Invisible Hamlet are asleep, I will throw a douglas fur three stories and attempt to catch it on film. I will then carry the 7 foot tree on my back away into the woods and replant it. A headstone unto itself.

Yesterday I played schitzophrenic Monopoly. Just me in a room with 8 shiney pieces, all talking propriatary jargon to one another, rolling dice and taking their chance. Horsey won after only 7 hours of fair play and heated arguements slowing the game. "Right right, Misieur Steam Boat, now that Top Hat is out of the game and his properties all belong to me, the Horsey, your deal for free parking on Red is no longer in effect. However, if you would like to maintain free parking on Red and extend that to Yellow, you can sign over Ventner to me and I will see to it that you will not be chaged your stays in the future. No? Don't like that deal? You are a schewd buisness man, aren't you. Much more so than Hobo Boot, Wood Barrel, and Sowers Thimble. And okay, right right, nay nay, nee nee, I the Horsey of Battlement Past, will take my roll. Seven! And lands me safely at home in my hotel on Park Place. The fountains! The lobby bar! The cabariet dancers! The golden light shining across the black marble! Ahh! Now now, Rexroth the Doggy, take heart, 'tis your roll, gentlefellow, and the world is green."

I'm going to put Stableicers on my boots and walk to the Knik Arm.

Peace and Love,
Mungo

• Song of the day: Radiohead - "Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)" ...Deftones cover